


Closure

by bricoleur10



Category: Leverage
Genre: Eliot Doing Eliot Things, Episode: s03e16 The San Lorenzo Job, Friendship, Gen, keeping secrets
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-19
Updated: 2015-06-19
Packaged: 2018-04-05 04:38:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 823
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4166199
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bricoleur10/pseuds/bricoleur10
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There are some things that only Nate and Eliot know about, things they’ll never discuss with the others. <br/>Set following the events of The San Lorenzo Job.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Closure

\---  
 **Closure**   
\---

It takes two months.

Honestly, Nate had been expecting it sooner. 

“I’m goin’ outta town for a few days,” Eliot approaches him in the kitchen one night after a con. It’s been two months, almost to the day, since they’d gotten back from San Lorenzo. 

Things have been running smoothly for the team – familiar cases, the ease of working together. Hardison had gotten over Eliot’s actions that day at the pool with Moreau, Parker hasn’t asked any questions, Sophie’s moved on, and Nate...well, Nate’s been waiting for this. 

“For how long?” Nate asks first, almost like he doesn’t know what this is. 

“Said a few days,” Eliot repeats, irritation seeping into his tone. “Four, max.” 

Nate studies his hitter thoughtfully. “I haven’t said a word to them about what happened that night,” and maybe it’s the extra glass of scotch he’d had a few minutes ago, but he feels like this is important. “Not even to Sophie. Y’know,” he laughs lightly, even though it isn’t funny, “When you came running through that airport hanger I...I was surprised. I really was.” 

“Because you thought I was dead.” Never let it be said that Eliot Spencer is a stupid man. 

“Because I...Eliot, I was _sure_ you were dead,” Nate shakes his head. “I was already working out how to tell the others. I was...I was already...mourning.” 

“You knew who I was before I joined this team,” Eliot crosses his arms, “A warehouse full of guys isn’t much, compared to what I used to do.” 

“Not when you have a gun.” Nate says, and then immediately wants to take it back. Eliot’s face goes cold, his eyes shifting away. “I didn’t-”

“Guns,” Eliot interrupts him angrily. “Plural. I had more than one.” 

“You were protecting us,” Nate says quickly. Never with anyone else on the team does he feel the need to prove himself quite like this. “That’s...that’s okay.” 

“I’m not askin’ for your permission, Nate,” the hitter sighs deeply. “I’m goin’ outta town. I’ll be back in a day or two.” 

“Four, max.” Nate repeats, shaking his head. “You don’t have to do this.” 

“I do,” Eliot tells him. “And don’t you dare tell me I don’t.” 

“He’s in jail,” Nate swallows thickly. “He’s not getting out.” 

“You can’t stamp a guarantee on that.” Eliot shakes his head. “I know you feel like you do, but you don’t know Moreau.” 

“I put him in jail.” Nate counters, because it’s in his nature to argue. 

“You don’t know Moreau’s people, either,” Eliot continues on like Nate had said nothing. “To you, every bad guy is just a bastard in a suit, playin’ the same game.” 

“They are.” 

“And it’s my job to make sure you can keep believin’ that.” Eliot exhales and looks at Nate like the older man is somehow innocent. 

“I...” 

“I’ll be back in a few days,” The hitter says once again. “Don’t tell the others where I’m goin’.” 

“I don’t _know_ where you’re going,” Nate points out. 

Eliot actually laughs. “Nah, I guess you don’t. Just like you don’t know what I did to Moreau’s guys at that warehouse. Just like I don’t know who was in your bed the morning after we won the election.” 

“Right,” Nate clears his throat. 

“Right,” Eliot mimics his sentiment, and then rubs a hand over his eyes. “Right,” he says again, somewhere in the middle of angry and sad. 

“I don’t...you know you don’t have to do this, right?” Nate reiterates. 

“The fact that you really believe that is...just, never mind, alright?” Eliot snaps, “I’m going. It’s happening. Tell the others whatever the hell you want. Tell them the truth for all I care at this point, Nate, just realize that it’s happening.” 

“Whoa, calm down,” the mastermind raises both his hands, palms out. “I’m not gonna tell them.” 

Eliot sighs. “Good.” 

“I mean, if you _want_ me to, I could-”

“Don’t.” He says shortly. 

It’s all Nate needs. He nods. 

“This is the only way...” Eliot nods once, as if confirming something to himself, “I need to do this.” 

“I know,” Nate sighs then, feeling older than he is. “I know you do.” 

They don’t talk anymore that night. 

The next day Nate tells the others that they can have a few days off, and when Parker asks, he tells her that Eliot had met a girl at the bar last night and that he probably won’t be around for a day or two. Parker accepts his lie as truth; Hardison snorts, muttering something about cowboys and charm; Sophie doesn’t even blink. They believe him. 

Eliot gets homes fifty seven hours later. He doesn’t look any worse for the wear. 

“Feel better?” 

Eliot pauses for a beat before facing the mastermind. “A little.” 

Nate lets out a breath he hadn’t known he’d been holding. “That’s something, I guess.” 

They never talk about it again. 

**End**


End file.
